Nobody Wins
by HarryFreak31793
Summary: Snatcher Damian Scabior's fall from grace was built upon blood-stain pavement. What happens when one name, two words, on a piece of parchment brings him back to the beginning?  Longer Summary Within Previously titled 'Obsession'.
1. You would rather fight than walk away

Title: Obsession

Summary: It takes a lot to turn a man into a dark creature. Snatcher Damian Scabior's fall from grace was built upon blood-stain pavement. What happens when one name, two words, on a piece of parchment brings him back to the beginning? Half-Blood Lana Morgan is the caretaker of a safe house christened Camp Phoenix. What happens when a she becomes the obsession of the man from her past?

Rating: T for violence and dark themes. Subject to raised rating later.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or descriptions you recognize from JK Rowling's work. All others are from my own head.

!

A dirty man sat, his legs upon a desk, within the new Snatchers office within the Ministry of Magic. His long matted hair was pulled back not unlike a mane of a lions. His differed from the former Minister's in that it was unkempt. He bore a scared and pocket marked face. Some women had claimed it made him distinguished, hard worn. The man was worrying a little tablet with his hands. At a point he angrily stopped at a name. Damian Scabior growled, "Lying bint."

"What was that?" Greyback asked sharpening his knife.

"Nothin'" he replied tracing one finger across the name on his list. Lana Morgan was a young Ravenclaw in his year at school she had always said she was a half-blood like himself, though he would never admit and would kill you if you insinuated it. He had not seen her in years, still there she was, her name in deep black on white parchment. He could remember her, her deep blue eyes and freckles over pale skin. Wit so sharp it would slice you bare to the bones and clever as hell. Lana Morgan had been his first love, his school sweetheart, and the woman who he had every intention of marrying, of course that was until the incident. Even as a Slytherin he had been tolerant of Muggles and their ways, his own Muggle mother was a light in his young life. Of course she ended up dying of breast cancer in the middle of his fourth year. Looking back now he realized it was then when his bitterness started to grow.

Lana was great. It was Lana who convinced him to go to the funeral. It was Lana who held his head in her lap as he lamented his loss. They fell in love when they were seventeen and ended up moving in together not long after graduating. She would spend long hours in the Department of Mysteries and he would train with the Aurors. Some nights they would come home to fall exhausted into bed and other nights they wouldn't even make it to the bed before they were both naked and devouring each other. It wasn't who she was that drew him to her like a moth to flame, though that was a contributing factor he wouldn't deny, but who she made him. Without her he was the worst of the human race, if becoming a snatcher wasn't an obvious indicator. She brought out the best in him, it was she who persuaded him to apply to the Auror Academy. It was she who convinced him to turn his back on Dolohov and his other friends who were bent on joining the Dark Lord.

One late night, their three-year-anniversary and the night of their engagement, the two of them were walking home from her favorite restaurant in Muggle London. Having been after the defeat of the Dark Lord and feeling safe enough surrounded by Muggles they chose to leave their wands at home, for they were only four blocks from their flat. The ring glistened on her finger but it wasn't half as bright as her smile. Then it all went wrong. One moment he was beside her his arm around her waist the next he was on the ground and a man held a knife to Lana's throat. He struggled to get up but received a swift kick to the ribs and fell. Lana pleaded for the man to let her go.

"Let go of her!" he yelled before receiving a kick to the mouth. He lay helpless getting beaten while listening to the sobs and the cries of the love of his life. The boots of the men changed and he knew they were passing her around and it was all he could do to stay conscience. After what seemed like years, they left. With his remaining strength Scabior crawled over to Lana and held her hand until he they were found by his brother five hours later on her way to visit him. After six weeks of healers coming and going, many broken bones being healed. When they came back home nothing was the same they were fighting all the time, she felt dirty and he felt guilty. He couldn't protect her and he became moody and eventually one late night he came home to empty drawers and a note.

_Damian,_

_ I love you and I always will but I can't do this any more. I hope you can find it in your heart to love again._

_Lana_

"Scabior, mate, where did you go?" he heard Greyback say and he was drawn out of his trance.

"Who're we going after?" one of the other men, Rafe asked. Rafe was a bean-pole of a man. He kept his hair short and was pale. An expert at catching people, quick and cunning he could find a fox before a bloodhound.

"Scabior's got the list," Andre grunted nodding his head. Andre was his companions foil character. A dark thug with braided hair and an imposing demeanor, he was only slightly smarter then a box of flint wood. Still Scabior wouldn't lie, he had his uses.

"Any one got a, uh, Lana Morgan's file," Scabior asked not used to the organization of a Ministry commissioned job.

"Mmm sounds sexy," Rafe asked and the men around the room laughed, "Here it is. Oh and there is a picture."

"Lemme' see," Scabior asked and Rafe handed the picture to him. He looked at Lana her eyes were as blue as he remembered them and her face though aged by the years was only made more beautiful. Her auburn hair was pulled back and she seemed to be intent on a piece of parchment. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and a ghost of a grin was on her face.

"Blood Status: Half-Blood; Marital Status: Single; Wanted for providing a safe haven to undesirables in the form of an Unplottable, warded campground; Priority: High, given the fact that she might be harboring other undesirables. Reward: 6,000 galleons," Rafe read and Scabior blinked. Half-Blood, well she hadn't lied after all.

!

"Miss Morgan," Lana Morgan heard a small voice say, "I got the firewood."

"Well, Artie take it to the pile. You've done a good job," Lana replied ruffling the eleven-year-old's ginger mop. She was off the radar for a while, funneling in Muggleborns one at a time. That was until September first and she caught wind of a cattle car full of kids being taken to Azkaban. So the few adults living with her at that time intercepted the car and carted the kids to what they now dubbed Camp Phoenix. It made her a marked woman but she had already placed a network of safe houses around the country. It would get Muggleborns to the Camp working from dozen of text on the Underground Railroad in America and WWII mainland Europe. The Ravenclaw worked hard at it with the help of a good deal of friends and trustworthy compatriots.

"6,000 galleons," one of her friend Rhys said holding out a poster. Rhys Antolini was an older man and a kind soul. His mother had been a muggleborn and was killed in the first wizarding war fighting alongside the Order of the Phoenix. He was silver haired and pot-bellied. He raised his young-grandchildren on a farm not far from the camp and brought all manner of food to the group at Camp Phoenix.

"Really? That's all?" she muttered looking at the poster the picture was from months before. It was quick snapshot taken in Diagon Alley by a photojournalist working on a piece about still living despite the war, "Any news on the name I gave you?"

"Damian Scabior? Nothing yet Paulette is keeping an eye out in the papers though."

"Have I thanked you recently Rhys?" Lana asked pulling back her hair before diving a hand into the wash bucket.

"Eh, once or twice, love," he said chuckling. The older men looked around, "Ted Tonks might be heading this way soon and possibly Reg Cattermole's wife and children."

"Good, any news of Cresswell?" Lana asked scrubbing the shirt vigorously.

"Captured and on his way to the Registration Committee, and I worked hard on that tree," Rhys said, "I thought for sure it would…"

"Not your fault, Rhys, I hear Runcorn has had it out for him Amelia and the boys?"

"Safe and angry, Adrian, swears vengeance on Runcorn," Rhys replied.

"That's his oldest right," Lana mused.

"You're good at keeping track of people," Rhys said with a small grin.

"s'My job," she replied.

"Well, I gotta get back to Paulette she'll be wondering about me."

"Give her love from me," Lana replied with a sud-soaked wave. She bent back over her washing. _Damian, _she thought, _Where are you? _

Lana had hope the Camp would be more then what it was, a place with cabins and cottages, a resort for richer wizards and witches. Of course that was back before the war. When Dumbledore himself came to her a month before beginning of term last year with the idea of a safe haven Lana jumped on the idea. Not two weeks later a file cabinet appeared in her house with folders on every family with muggleborns inside. Lana set herself to memorizing it and compiled a list of her own. The land she'd inherited was just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole close to other wizarding homes. Still it was a tolerant neighborhood complied of neighbors like the Lovegood's and the Weasley's. She would go out and meet her neighbors weekly figuring out who she could trust and making connections with people farther out. Soon the network was created ready to begin the moment the news of the Muggle-Born Registration Committee arrived. Four or five dozen lean-tos and tents were scattered about along with a mess hall like structure and two barrack buildings crafted by the adults for the children. With winter approaching Lana hoped to add on to them to get the group out of the elements. Lana would be forever grateful to Rhys, Arthur, and Xenophilius. The three men happened to be the best protection around.

"Lana," Sarah-Jean, a tall sixteen year old muggleborn girl said, "They sent me to take over the laundry. We've got a theft dispute in the mess hall."

"Merlin, honestly," Lana said wiping her hands on her jeans, "Who is it?"

"Rochester and Biggs again," she replied. Lana groaned as she stormed to the mess hall.

"Ya lily livered ol' coot ya know das my blanket," Biggs a dirty older man missing half his teeth yelled holding tight to then end of a yellow quilt, "Me wife made it 'fore she died."

"You lying fool!" Rochester said posh as ever yelled, "I bought this on a trip in the Appalachian Mountains in North America."

"All right you two stop arguing!" Lana hollered Biggs dropped the quilt whilst Rochester glared at her.

"Sorry ma'am," Biggs said nodding, "We're yer guest we souldn' be arguin' where the younguns can hear."

"It's quite alright Biggs disagreements sprout up all the time and this is your home while you're here, you know that," she replied buying time while she figured out a solution. There was a tale of biblical proportions that could aid in her quest to get the blanket to it's proper owner, "Why don't we just cut the blanket in half? It's plenty big enough."

"Fine by me," Rochester said dropping it to the ground Biggs snatched it up.

"No! You can let 'im have it. I'd rather see it given to him then torn to shreds," the man said cradling the blanket to himself.

"As I expected, Mr. Biggs please take the quilt to your tent. Mr. Rochester if you try to steal again you will be dismissed from this Camp. I won't have you teaching the children bad morals. If you are cold I sure you can conjure up your own blanket."

"How did you know whose it was?" Sarah-Jean asked after the fight.

"Well my mom used to tell me bible stories when I was a child. There was a wise king who had to solve a dispute between two women over a child. Each woman claimed it was hers. The king had absolutely no clue who the mothers child was. So he said he would cut the child in half thus solving the dispute. One woman nodded her assertion the other in horror claimed that the other woman could have the child. So the king gave the child to the second woman, who was in fact the child's mother. He knew that the woman who would rather see the child live raised by another then killed was the rightful mother," Lana told as she washed. Sarah-Jean looked upon Lana with admiration.

!

"Rhys, darling, what was the name of that man Miss Morgan is asking about?" Paulette Antolini asked her husband after dinner.

"A Damian Scabior I think it was," he said whittling a little toy train for his youngest grandson.

"Oh dear I hoped I had it wrong," Paulette whispered placing the paper on the coffee table between them. Upon it was a picture of Dirk Cresswell and a scruffy young man. The caption read: _Snatcher Scabior brings delinquent Cresswell to trial before the Muggle-Born Registration Committee._


	2. Let's count up the reasons to cry

Obsession 2

Damian Scabior leaned silently against the wall within the Department of Mysteries. He awaited the ruling on his most recent catch. Twirling the man's wand within his fingers intent on not thinking about where he was. How many times did he get finished early and rush down here to escort Lana home? How many times did he lean against this wall? _Damn you_ he thought _I haven't thought about you in years and now you occupy almost every single thought. _Pinching his nose, head bent, he saw a stiff firewhiskey in his future. So enraptured in his thoughts he didn't hear the click of heels on the stone floor.

"'Ello beautiful why so thoughtful?" a silky female voice whispered.

"Allison," he said shortly. Allison Balrigaurd was all of five four in four-inch stilettos. Silky blonde hair and heavy lidded dark eyes hid a maddening woman. Throughout history, whenever there was a war, armies were followed by caravans of women earning money and favors from the men. Allison Balrigaurd was one of those women. She did some none descript desk job within the Ministry during the day and during the night she spent her time in the more shady pubs and bars on Knockturn Alley.

"Aw why so short with me Scabior?" she asked in a small baby voice hanging off his shoulder.

"Not in the mood Balrigaurd," he growled trying to shake her off.

"You were in the mood a few nights ago," she whispered huskily in his ear. _That was before I found out Lana was still in the country._

"Please get off of me Allison," He said tugging away more violently.

"What the hell Damian?" she asked angry.

"Not in the mood means not in the mood Allison," he growled and she flinched back.

"Scabior!" another voice said from behind Allison. Loud slightly screeching and maniacal, Bellatrix Lestrange rounded the corner. Her wild hair was piled upon her head. If she wasn't so terrible he would have to prevent himself from laughing, "Are you frightening one of my pretties?"

"Your 'pretties?'" he asked quirking an eyebrow, "Pardon?"

"Aw, these little girls needed organization," Bellatrix replied, "That I readily offered. Balrigaurd leave us."

"Yes mistress," Allison replied before scurrying off.

"Mistress… seems you've tamed the beast," he replied refocusing his stare back at the wall.

"Far from it, Scabior," she replied taking Allison's place clinging to his arm, "Now what is wrong with you?"

"I know what you're doing Lestrange you aren't the only one with the ability to use Occlumency," Scabior said not moving, "All Aurors who chose to could train in it."

"Not many did I bet," she said standing back from him he smirked. She then violently pulled his ear to her mouth and whispered harshly, "Never scare one of them again."

He stood there stunned as she stormed off, "Crazy bint…"

"Nice day's work young man," a toad like woman said from behind him and Scabior turned with a smile on his face.

"Why thank you Miss Umbridge," he said in a mock gentlemanly fashion, "May I say your necklace suits you quite well."

"Well it's a family heirloom," she replied blushing. Scabior traced his finger down her face and rested it under her chin. Playing old women was a past time of his that usually ended with his having a small sack of gold or some gifts.

"It brings out your eyes," the man said and an annoying giggle escaped Umbridge's lips. At that he kissed her hand.

"Well Mr. Scabior, here have a little extra reward money on me," Umbridge replied and Scabior smirked, "Just between the two of us my boy."

"Thank you Dolores," He replied before kissing her hand again before he left heel clapping against the stone.

!

"Rhys is here," Sarah-Jean said and Lana smiled.

"Did he bring the eggs?" Lana asked.

"There's a whole wagon full of food," the freckle faced Artie replied running past with a lollipop.

"Don't run with that," Lana called out ruffling his head as was her custom, "We'll need to have haircut day soon."

"May I please go I haven't had chocolate in ages," Sarah-Jean said wistfully. Lana nodded and Sarah-Jean rushed out. Lana finished cleaning drying the cooking pot and headed out. Rochester stood there awkwardly talking to Sarah-Jean.

"I-I- picked, uh, the caramel chocolates up for you," he was saying, "and- and- I conjured this quilt up for you."

Lana looked at the quilt it was a pale green and crude but it looked warm. She felt as though she understood the boy a bit more. She was constantly reminding herself that he was only eighteen. The young man did come from a posh family of Muggle politicians and probably wasn't used to roughing it. Not to mention Biggs was known for leaving his stuff lying about. Something in her gut told her that this boy would make good on his second chance.

"Everything important is being taken in the back," Rhys said just before a four foot tall wrecking ball shot into Lana's chest.

"Ralphie!" she said pulling the four year old close to her.

"Miss Lana! Miss Lana! How come you never babysit anymore?" the young child said.

"Cause I'm to busy babysitting a who campful of people," she replied. The young child had mop like raven hair and brown eyes like cinnamon. Rhys in miniature Ralphie Vance was the most adorable young child in the world. Youngest son of Emmeline Vance an orphan after his father died in a spell creating accident and his mother Emmeline, Rhys's daughter, killed by Death Eaters last year. Five children left parent-less. Still they were used to spending all their time with their grandparents. For safety reasons Emmeline owned a flat in London where she would go and then Apparate to the farm.

"Look Pops has got a special bag for you!" Ralphie said running to get it from his grandfather.

"Fresh tomatoes, garlic, basil… everything I need for a huge batch of spaghetti! Rhys, how did you know?" Lana asked hugging the older man who just jumped off of the wagon.

"Guessed. Can we have a chat alone?" he muttered into her ear before hollering at one of the men unloading, "Oi! Be careful with those, Molly Weasley'd be upset if you messed up her pies!"

"Is this about Damian?" she asked face ashen and sweat beginning to coat her palms.

"Yeah, and you aren't gonna like it," he replied and Lana grabbed onto his sleeve and pulled him into a small room she claimed as her office. After offering him a seat on her cot she sat against the desk. Solemnly Rhys pulled out the paper indicating the front page picture.

"That's Dirk… and… oh my…" Lana she whispered horrified at the sight. Damian who took such pride in himself looked wrong, "Damian what happened to you?"

"I had Arthur do some digging," Rhys said, "Smart man, Auror Academy, had a girlfriend there for awhile, it all went wrong after an attack by Muggles, apparently the girl'd been raped," a sharp intake of breath came from Lana as the tears started falling, "'bout six months later things went down hill, drunk and disorderly, theft, evading capture, twelve months in Azkaban. Now he's a Snatcher, working against everything we've been working for."

"Damian," she replied tracing her finger along his face. Rhys awkwardly gave her a pat on the shoulder before leaving her. Once alone Lana threw the paper across the room quickly followed by anything in her reach, a quill, some parchment, a plotted plant. Soon her office was in shreds and she was crumpled up on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest, wracked with unending sobs.

!

_It was stuffy in the potions classroom fumes hung over the students. Damian looked over at the girl working next to him. She was fussing with a piece of hair hanging in her face while making notes and pouring ingredients in her copper cauldron. Before he could notice his staring he looked back at his own pewter one. Why did she use copper? Was it because they were better for brewing? Or did she just like the color? Before he realized it there was a hand on his. He looked up. There she stood stopping him from dropping in a rat tail. He looked at her eyes, bluer then even the color of her tie. Heat radiated from her touch and Damian could feel sweat start to plaster his hair to his face. She was touching him this beautiful stranger._

_ "That wrong you know," she said in a soft tone, "I, uh, noticed you were about to put it in. Your potion isn't a 'thick, blue, sparkling substance yet.' You need to add the Tentacula leaves first."_

_ "Oh, uh, thanks," Damian said putting down the tail and adding the correct ingredient._

_ "I doze away sometimes too," she replied with a shrug. Damian nodded before a thought hit him._

_ "Hey, how'd you know I was about to mess up," he asked looking at her oddly._

_ "You aren't the only one staring at other people from across the room, Damian," she whispered harshly._

_ "How'd you know my name?" he asked rudely. The girl looked up at him almost angry. Woah, what did he say wrong? Damian was always messing up around women._

_ "You honestly just asked me that," she huffed turning back to her cauldron stirring clockwise, "Lana, Lana Morgan, the girl who convinced you to go to your mother's funeral a year and a half ago."_

_ "No?" he said surprised. She nodded sharply and added the rat tail to her potion. What he remembered of Lana had been freckles, acne, a to-big-for-her sweater, glasses, and those foul Muggle teeth contraptions, bridges or something. This wasn't her. Lana Morgan had barely been five foot. This girl was at least five seven. Thinking back he did remember the hair color. You couldn't fake that deep of a red. Merlin had she grown up, "You threw a teacup at me."_

_ "You walked in on me while I was upset," she replied glaring._

_ "About what?" he asked admittedly too late._

_ "Crouch was making fun of my teeth," she replied. Damian looked back at his friend who was struggling over his own potion._

_ "Well, I apologize for him," Damian replied as the bell rang… though it sounded conspicuously like a loud snore._

Scabior could have killed Greyback, the overbearing oaf. He was enjoying being back in that classroom. _Damn it Damian, _he scolded himself, _she is the enemy! Wait you're a hired hand… you have no enemy. Well except for empty pockets. _Still it was a nice break from the Azkaban nightmares. Reliving that horrid night sixteen years ago over and over again in his cell. Twelve months of complete hell that was. Unable to fall back into a comfortable position he stretched and stood. It was time to get back to work.


	3. I never thought that we'd come to this

"Do we have any more potions ingredients?" Fiona Applewhite, an older woman with upturned hazel and grey eyes and steel colored hair, asked Lana as she rounded the corner of the newly erected school house. The woman stood, an imposing figure, in the doorway of the room. Tall as an oak tree and just as wide the dark woman was a feature of strength at the camp.

"Aren't there any in the cupboard?" Lana asked pushing an auburn curl aside after setting down a bucket of water.

"That's hardly enough," Fiona replied. As the new Potions Mistress of Camp Phoenix, Fiona had inspected the cupboard very carefully, "You are the one who wanted to teach the children Miss Morgan."

"I know," the younger woman replied, "Make me a list… you know what have all the teachers make me a list."

"You can't expect Mr. Antolini to go after these…"

"No, Fee, I was going to go myself," Lana replied.

"Honestly child you are a marked woman! You can't just go gallivanting around Diagon Alley!" the older woman said scandalized.

"Do you think they have Snatchers out in Diagon Alley?" Lana retorted, "They wouldn't expect any one to do that."

"You find a way around the Trace with your wards and you think you're unstoppable!"

"Not unstoppable, Fee," Lana countered, "If I go into Diagon in the right clothes I won't even be noticed.

"You have Death Eater robes laying about then?" Fiona huffed, "Because that is about the only way…"

"I'm going Fiona," Lana said sternly, "We need to teach these kids and I have other business to attend to anyway."

"What other business?" Fiona asked.

"We need medical supplies or at least the right ingredients to make them," Lana said, "As prepared as I was, the camp wasn't one hundred percent stocked before the children came."

"Buildings still being erected?" Fiona asked.

"Okay I wasn't ready at all when the children came," Lana said collapsing on the stairs and sighing.

"You need to start delegating sweetheart," Fiona said sitting beside her.

"I'm not the type. I have this asinine fear of failure and now that I'm responsible for all these people…"

"If you fail it could cost us all," Lana nodded before hanging her head in her hands.

"Sometime I curse Dumbledore for coming to me with this," Lana replied, "I didn't even know that he knew who I was to be honest with you."

"He was friends with your grandfather," Fiona replied, "He knew you had come into the farm."

"How did you…" Lana started.

"You aren't the only one he asked to do something sweetie," Fiona replied, her eyes crinkled in a smile, "When your granddad married me when you were only a little one, merlin, I was so excited to have you around."

"Fee, please you are going to make me cry," Lana replied the woman sat down and pulled the redhead towards her.

"Baby, you've gone through so much," Fiona said stroking her hair, "Survived one war just to fight in another."

Lana was glad Fiona never spoke of the incident. Fiona wasn't one to reopen old wounds, especially ones that weren't exactly healed. See when Lana's mother abandoned her on her grandfather's doorstep when she was just a baby Fiona had been seeing him for some time. They were neighbors at the time and had plans to buy the farm out in the country. Fiona had never been able to have kids and Alec Morgan had lost his wife years before. She was raised by them, and when Alec died Fiona knew she couldn't handle the farm on her own. She called Lana almost immediately and allowed the girl to claim ownership of the farm.

"I've got to go get those materials," Lana said standing, "I still have my business robes from ages ago. No one should mess with me dressed like that."

"Oh I'll go…"

"Absolutely not, if I go I go alone," Lana said dusting off her jeans. She levitated the bucket and headed to her office.

!

Scabior took a long drag off of his cigarette. He was leaning against a building in Diagon Alley. He flicked the ashes watching them flutter in the breeze. It felt good to be away for a bit. The great outdoors was wonderful and all but you could only be with two men and a monster for so long without wanting to do yourself in. After the successful capture of Cresswell he felt he deserved a break. It wasn't his fault that Runcorn let him get loose after the capture. Scabior smirked as two old ladies rushed past him. The ex-con loved his new found feeling of power. As he looked over the street a smile passed by his lips and a memory was brought to the fore front of his mind.

_She felt like she fit right into his arms, and he was just alright with that. They were holding onto each other in front of Florish and Blotts. Barty was on his way to meet them. It seemed like forever since that fateful day in potions where he was so preoccupied by her. His hands rested on the small of her back as she tip-toed to give him a quick kiss on the lips. _

_ "GET A ROOM," they heard and Damian turned around to see his best friend loping to catch up with them. Barty Crouch Jr. had a mess of brown hair and was very formally dressed for a day of shopping._

_ "Mate, where did you get the pinstripes? Steal from Fudge?" Damian said and Lana and Barty laughed._

_ "At least I'm not wearing a bowtie," Barty said raising his eyebrows._

_ "One time and he doesn't shut up about it," Damian huffed as Lana giggled._

_ "Lana, love, why don't you ditch this loser and run away with me?" Barty asked laughing._

_ "Sorry Barty but I like my men intelligent," Lana said as they started to walk towards Quality Quidditch Supplies._

_ "I'm hurt," Barty replied thumping his fist on his chest, "Ouch, shouldn't have done that."_

_ "You are only proving her point mate," Damian replied and Barty laughed. The couple was surprised to see the dark look pass his face. _

_ "Can't he just leave me alone?" Barty muttered darkly. Damian knew exactly who he was talking about and he nodded at Barty Crouch Sr. Lana looked up and promptly buried her head in Damian shoulder. She had confided in him a few days ago that Barty's dad gave her the creeps. He'd never admit it but he didn't exactly get warm and fuzzy around his best friends dad. Possibly had to do with the fact that his own dad was an ex-con and had evaded the other man more times then he could count. _

_ "Barty, how nice to see you out and about," Crouch said._

_ "Yes father just school shopping with my friends," Barty replied, "You know Damian and this is his girlfriend, Lana Morgan."_

_ "Ah your grandfather owns that farm near the Weasley's home, correct?" Crouch asked._

_ "Yes sir," she replied awkwardly. Damian squeezed her hand reassuringly._

_ "Mr. Scabior keeping out of trouble?" he said turning to Damian._

_ "Yes sir," Damian nodded, "Either that or not getting caught." Barty laughed at the scandalized look on his father's face, "I'm just jesting, sir."_

_ "Barty may we speak in private," Crouch asked his son._

_ "Yes father," Barty replied abet a bit reluctantly. Damian and Lana waited patiently for their friend. After about five minutes, of which Barty got more and more aggravated, their friend returned._

_ "Git," Barty muttered under his breath._

_ "Are you okay?" Lana asked placing a hand on his shoulder. _

_ "Fine," Barty replied, "He just told me I could have better friends then a future criminal and a farm girl."_

_ "I'm on a fast track to the Department of Mysteries," Lana replied, "Not a farm girl."_

_ "I tried to tell him that and he told me that you still didn't come from a well-bred background," Barty replied._

_ "Sorry Bart but I kind of hate your dad," Damian replied._

_ "Join the club," Barty said, "Anyway I need new Keepers pads."_

_ "What is the use? You aren't going to block any of mine any way," Lana replied, the tall girl was Chaser for her house team._

_ "Ha, that's if you can get the ball from me," Damian said and the entire group laughed before walking into the shop._

It seemed like the world was so much brighter that day. Who would have thought that two of them would end up in Azkaban? Scabior blinked. _You are hallucinating, _he thought, _there is no way that is her. _It wasn't until she walked past on the other side of the street that he was sure it was her. Dressed as a business woman in crisp robes he would have overlooked her in a moment if it hadn't been for her hair. No one he knew had hair that color.


	4. The person now that you, you claim to be

AN: This is my first time writing a graphic sex scene so con-crit is welcome.

He stealthily crossed the street and started behind her. She glanced around once before ducking into the Apothecary. After a minute he followed, the smell of the place assaulted him. She was searching the medicinal herbs when he found her again. She made a list for the shopkeeper. She was probably going to have stores sent to her little camp. How easy would it be for him to wait until she made her order snatch her up and get the location of her hide-out? She double checked her list and made her way to the more general supplies. Did she not have a potions cupboard at all? Did she have the money to pay for this? After checking that list she made her way to the counter.

"I need these supplies at these measurements sent to these addresses," she said handing the man the lists. Scabior smiled two addresses neither probably the real one. She must have safe houses she can send the supplies to, smart woman.

"Running errands?" the shopkeeper said.

"I'm a secretary it's in my job description," she replied.

"It'll be four hundred galleons and twelve sickles for the medicinal and three hundred galleons and fifteen knuts for the rest," the man said, "How will you be paying?"

"Gold," she replied lifting her bag onto the counter. She pulled out seven smaller bags and the sickles and knuts, "Already measured in hundreds for you and shrunk."

"Everyone pays up front now-a-days," the man grumbled, "It'll be just a mo'."

He watched as she tapped those long fingers on the table. Scabior closed his eyes remembering the things those same fingers did to his skin. Her deft hand running up his chest, gripping at his back, unbuckling his belts, reaching for his…

"All's in order ma'am," the shopkeeper said and he took the lists. Scabior decided now was the time to advance. Lana was putting her things together when the shopkeeper noticed him approaching.

"Ah, Mr. Scabior, out of dreamless-sleep-potion already?" he asked. Scabior couldn't help but relish in Lana freezing with fear.

"No sir. I just noticed an old friend walk in the store," He replied placing his hand on her shoulder. He was surprised when she didn't flinch away, "It's quite nice to see you Miss Morgan."

"You too, Mr. Scabior," She replied a hint of a quiver in her voice. The shopkeeper didn't seem alarmed.

"May I escort you to your next destination Miss?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied not evading as he thought she might. He offered her his arm which she took and the two left together.

"Follow my lead," he whispered in her ear once outside, "Act like you want to be with me, and keep your wand in your sleeve."

"Where—"

"Keep your mouth shut," he said slightly jerking her arm, before heading toward Knockturn Alley. Her breathing quickened a bit still being a professional she was good at playing a part. She leaned her head against his shoulder a faint smile on her lips. He felt as though his skin was being seared by her very touch. They made there way to a shady little pub, _The Bane. _Once inside he looked went straight to the bartender. "Eric, my usual room," he said.

"S'all prepped for ya sire," he said and Scabior smirked before heading upstairs with Lana. Once at the door he pushed her in and slammed the door behind him quickly disarming her before locking the door.

"What, the bloody hell, was that for?" Lana said standing up and looking around.

"There are no teacups in here stop searching," he replied.

"I could bludgeon you with a lamp," she replied glaring.

"Do you think you would get out of this pub alive, love?" he asked smirking at her again.

"Why didn't you just take me to the Ministry?" she asked.

"You upset about that?" he said, "If so we can get there post haste."

Scabior ducked as a lamp whizzed past his head. Why did she always throw things? He noticed her reaching for something else and he rushed towards her pinning her arms to her sides.

"Let go of me!" She yelled struggling against him and he was glad he had cast a muffling charm.

"I want to have a calm discussion and you start throwing things," Scabior said with a barking laugh.

"You're enjoying this!" she said shrilly.

"Just enjoying the fact that in fifteen years you haven't changed one bit," he replied.

"You have," she said harshly and Scabior dropped his arms.

"When your heart gets ripped out of your chest you tend to," he growled at her. This seemed to make her even angrier.

"Don't—blame it on me," she said turning away from him.

"You're the one who left!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO STOPPED TOUCHING ME," she screamed and he flinched. He watched in horror as she crumpled to the floor sobbing, "After that night you—you—never touched me again."

"The Healers told me not too," he whispered, "Told me to give you time. Let you approach me… I thought you hated me because I couldn't protect you."

He was surprised when she stood up and started slapping him, "You are so bloody stupid!"

"I'm sorry," he said pulling her into his arms still amazed at how perfectly she fit there.

"Don't be," Lana said, "I'm sorry… sorry for what I did to you."

"What?"

"Damian, look at you! You don't even look like yourself!" she whispered.

"This was who I always was," he replied, "Underneath."

"I don't believe that," She said and he pulled her closer to him. He then continued to capture her mouth with his. She surprisingly kissed him back pushing against him and tangling her hands in his long hair. In return he placed his hands on either side of his face as she hooked her leg behind his. They kissed passionately and Scabior let on hand sink slowly to the small of her back. She held onto him tightly, like she needed him.

Damn, it felt good to be need.

The man unexpectedly grabbed her bum lifting her up and placing her slowly on the desk in the room. Carnally he traced kisses down her neck nipping at the hallow space where her neck and her collar bone met. This was met with a shiver and he took that as permission to continue. His long deft fingers played at the buttons on the back of her robes before releasing them. The front fell from her exposing her pert breast in a black satin bra. Slowly, still nuzzling her neck, he ran his finger along the line of her bra eliciting gooseflesh from her. He pulled himself from her and she moaned when he wasn't touching her anymore.

"Don't stop," she said. With that he let his leather jacket fall before pulling his own shirt over his head. Shirtless he wrapped his arms around her raising her off the desk long enough to remove the rest of her clothing. Hair mussed and nearly naked Lana wrapped her legs around him. Her nipples were hard and painfully confined in her bra. As if reading her mind Damian reached up and unhooked her bra. He then took it and threw it over his shoulder before running a calloused thumb over her nipple making her moan into his mouth. Scabior then bent over her body and took the same nipple in his mouth, sucking on it passionately causing her to arch into him. His hand then found her black cotton panties. Unconsciously he ripped them off her body. There was always something arousing about having her entirely naked and under his power.

Lana gasped as he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. She lay flat on her back him hovering over her careful not to touch her. She whimpered and he left a chaste kiss on her cheek. "You're enjoying this," she panted. His laughter filled the room. In response she reached for the button of his pants undoing them and sliding them and his underwear off to where he could easily kick them to the floor. Her long fingers reached up and grasped his shaft. With that surprise she had him in her place quickly. She straddled his legs before placing a soft kiss on his member. Teasingly she took just the tip into her mouth. Slowly she moved her lips down and around it before he filled her mouth. Moaning Scabior gasped at her hair. He then lifted her head up sitting up. He tangled his hands in her hair. A surprise flick of her tongue caused him to pull a little. She moaned around his cock and the vibrations made him moan in return. She finished her ministrations and that same mouth found it's way to his. A curtain of auburn hair dangled in his face. She precariously held his arms out to his sides slightly straddling him. She grinned down at him before stroking his face with her hand. Scabior took advantage of that to flip her over and held her hands over her head. She wriggled a little underneath him.

Gripping her wrists with one hand he used the other to run a thumb over her clit bringing forth a moan from her perfect lips. "I need you," she said hoarsely with a shudder. This made Scabior himself need to fill her, to be one with her. He aligned himself up with he and slowly filled her with one thrust releasing her wrists. She grasped at his biceps as he thrust into her lowering his head to suck at her neck. The sounds she was making and the writhing that she was doing was sending him father over the edge. Almost animal like he reached his climax with a throaty grunt the same time she called out his name. The collapsed into a heap on top of each other and quickly gave to sleep.

!

Lana woke in a strange bed alone and as she went to stand up she realized that her arm was handcuffed to the bed post, "Well, fuck me," she muttered the events from last night coming to her in waves.

"I did that last night," Scabior replied coming in from the bathroom. The tangled man had nothing but a towel slung over his hips.

"I guess you are going to cart me off to the Ministry and claim your reward now?" Lana said angrily.

"Wasn't planning on it," Scabior said with a shrug, "You've brought that up twice now. I can take you in if you."

"Git," Lana said.

"I love your pet names for me Lana darling," he replied gathering up his clothes and putting them on one by one.

"If you aren't taking me in what the hell are these Muggle contraptions for?" she asked.

"Alright, were you or were you not going to sneak out the moment you could," she glared, "I'll take that as a yes. Well I didn't want you to leave without talking about what happened last night."

"Aw, Scab that so sweet," She said mockingly, pulling her legs up to her chest.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked.

"Cresswell was my friend Damian he has a wife and children," she muttered, "Merlin knows how many more people you've sent to the demetors."

"Nothing they wouldn't have done to me," Scabior yelled, "Turns out there are more Crouch's in the world then otherwise."

"What did you do?" she asked, "What happened to you?"

"Damn it Lana," he muttered, "After you left I drunk myself into a ditch. Broker the shit and out on my ass I start conning dying old women out of their money. I pulled of a big con within the McLaggen Corporation and they caught hid me away for a year. You don't come out of Azkaban unchanged."

"You would send others to that? To worse?" she asked looking at him like she was looking at his soul.

"If it kept me out of there, yes," he replied sternly.

"Then you have changed," she said and his chest felt like it had been blown from his body. The look in her eyes nearly killed him, the pain and disappointment.

"Like I said this was who I always was deep down," he muttered, "Still this isn't what I wanted to talk about. I wanted you to know I would have let you go if we hadn't made love last night. It isn't like payment for my protection. Just next time you need supplies send me an owl I'll fix them up for you. I also wanted to warn you… if I see you when I'm with the others I'll have to take you in."


End file.
